Spirit
by Kbubbles1210
Summary: She woke up with no memories, or at least until the moon spoke to her. The people she meets ignore her, even walk straight through her. Jack is pretty used to his life as a guardian, and he loves every second of it. Just when things are starting to look even better, a message is written to him in an alleyway, warning him about a new rising enemy. SET AFTER ROTG MOVIE
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER : I do not own ROTG or anyone in it, just my own characters and settings**

The light.

That was the first thing she saw.

The light.

It had millions of colors; red, orange, blue, white…

There was no way she could've counted them all. They kept changing, fading into new ones. Red to yellow, purple to maroon.

It comforted her, like it was wrapping itself around her.

And then there was the prickling.

It felt like tiny needles were running across her skin, stabbing at her arms and legs.

But it didn't hurt as much as it seemed.

It didn't discomfort her.

If anything, it energized her.

It was like electricity, and it was powering her. It might as well have been life, for it brought her strength that was well-needed.

Her eyes flew open, displaying almost eyes that were full of color. They seemed to be having a tough time deciding on which color to settle on, shifting from colors that eyes should never have existed; blue and green, but then purple and yellow.

Spots appeared on her vision for a moment before her eyes managed to focus on the light above her.

The moon.

It was bright.

It encouraged her to move on.

She didn't expect it to speak in her head.

_Your name is Spirit, the Guardian of Creativity._

That was quite a vital piece of information, but all it did was strike up more questions.

Spirit...it was a nice name, especially because she had just woken up with no memories or thoughts. She knew the important things, like that she was laying in grass, and the heaviness in the air was humidity, and that there are about ten million disguisable colors in the world.

Simple things came to mind immediately, she hardly even had to think about them. But the deeper things, the meaningful things, were gone.

Who is she?

Why is she here?

What happened?

How long has she been here?

_Am I dead? _She thought. She felt dead. Her mind was pretty dead too. There were no thoughts going through it, just suggestions and questions.

Those were thoughts, right?

She dug in the dewy grass around her. What was going on? For one, the moon had just spoken to her. Two, she had no memories, let alone main knowledge of who, what, when, where, and/or why. Third, she was lost.

She knew she had to keep going.

If she had any hope of getting out of here, wherever she was, she needed to keep her cool and stay focused.

She let her eyes adjust to the darkness around her. The moon was still shining bright as ever, but it seemed to have died down enough to let her eyes scan a bit more of the area.

She was in a forest. The sounds of nature surrounded her. There was a shallow stream swerving through the trees, and the moonlight made shadows from passing it's way between the leaves. The smell of damp dirt and wildflowers was so strong it was like walking into a perfume isle at the mall.

She exhaled a breath; apparently she'd been holding it for quite a while. There was a small cloud of mist flowing through the forest, and it only made her a bit more cautious of her surroundings.

She dragged her feet on the ground to help herself up, and found that she was wearing a black pair of combat boots. If she knew more about herself, she may've disliked them, but somehow they fit perfectly.

Her legs were covered in a pair of white leggings that had somehow stayed clean throughout her frantic searching the muddy ground. Her arms were covered by a white t-shirt that reached to her knees. It didn't look oversized though, for it fit perfectly on her arms and sides, it was only long.

She shoved herself to a sitting position. Sunlight shone in beams to the ground, the sound of the stream filled her ears. If it weren't for the situation, she would've fallen straight asleep.

She eyed up a small cylinder laying on the ground beside her. How had she not noticed it before?

It had a rather unique set of designs on the sides. It was completely see-through, except for the thin lines that the designs made. When she placed it in her hands, (it was like holding a mini pole) the swirls and outlines lit up in an array of colors.

It extended in a quick _swish_, like the sound of metal sliding against metal, the ends grew longer and longer so that it was a bit taller than she was. The designs stayed glowing, but the ends glowed brighter, all the colors gathering there.

She couldn't help but admire it. Whoever, whatever, had made this, was a genius. It was so beautiful, even though it was just a clear staff.

Something about it brought her comfort.

Maybe it was the way that it conducted that strange electric feeling into her arms again, or that it felt so right in her hands.

It sparked, well, the colors flashed to a bright neon so suddenly that it made her back away from the staff.

Somehow she had managed to keep it in her hands. The end of the staff hit the ground, turning the area around it to an assortment of different colors. Each blade of grass started fading into different colors; red, orange, pink, blue, or in other words, colors that grass shouldn't've been.

_It was amazing._

Despite that it was completely impossible.

She felt a bit hesitant to tap the staff against a nearby tree, but she did it anyways. The staff sent waves of color up the tree like vines, the different colors changing the leaves from green to orange.

She started running, tapping every bit of nature in sight to change it's color. Before she knew it, she started running at a speed that could only be described as light.

A streak of color followed her as she sped through the forest, the trees behind her changing from green to an assortment of warm ones. When she finally managed to get her feet to slow down, the forest looked as if fall had come early.

She let out an amazed breath, mumbling a few compliments to herself.

There was a clanging sound behind her, making her jump. She whirled around, and was greeted by a group of campers setting up base.

"Hey!" She shouted, hoping to get their attention. She started making her way towards them. "Do you know where I am?"

They ignored her, or maybe just didn't hear her. She kept walking forwards until she was only a few feet from their camp.

"Excuse me," She asked, walking up a man who looked like the oldest. "Do you have any idea where-"

He straightened up and began walking towards her. She put her hands up to stop him, but he kept going.

_And walked right through her._

She gasped, more out of surprised than anything. It hadn't hurt her physically, but it scared her to the point that her heart was aching a bit.

She was about to say something again to someone else, but it happened again. They walked right through her, sending her reeling backwards towards the forest. She felt tears welling in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

_They can't see me_. The thought was too much, and she fell to the forest floor in a heap of tears and sobs.

It didn't last long.

She sniffled a few times before standing up once again. Tearing her eyes off the campers and tightening the laces on her boots, she turned around and walking into the forest, leaving the people behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER : I don't own ROTG or any of the original characters  
>My own characters, such as Spirit, are all mine<strong>

Jack was used to standing by and watching.

Sure, he had been doing it for over 300 years, but that didn't make it any easier. Now that he was a guardian, his job had gotten a lot more...interesting.

He was basically a giant snowstorm, bringing winter around the globe to separate continents. Just because he has to bring winter to specific places, doesn't mean he won't give an occasional snow day.

In fact, he gave out a bit _too _many.

Burgess always got the most though. Jamie and his friends, who had saved the children from a horrible path of nightmares and fear-filled nights, deserved a reward. Even the guardians had pitched in and given the town quite the premium.

His amount of free time, though, down the drain.

He still had snowball fights with Jamie and his friends, and he held on to each precious second, then he had to bring winter to the rest of the world. And the world is a big place, and winter was the least of it's problems.

Pitch Black had somehow still stayed a problem.

It wasn't the man himself that was causing the issues, or at least as far as the guardians were aware. It was his leftover fearlings, the ones who had gone rogue.

Sandy, also know as Sandman, had been doing his best to turn each fearling he came across on his rounds in good dreams. Sandy had reported (which was a bit hard due to him being mute and communicating through symbols that often flashed at quite a fast speed) each day after his rounds were finished, and the amount of fearlings he finds has be shrinking each day.

It was a good thing.

But that still didn't loosen up the amount of work that Jack had to do.

Something about being a guardian now made him proud of himself. He had always thought that he would be riding the wind, frosting up car doors and causing snow days. But his job took on a whole other meaning now, he had hope.

He was believed in.

Well, he was getting there. Jamie and his friends were still his only believers, and the ones that have been slowly appearing around the globe, only occurred about...once every month or so…

Jack was glad to have his group of both believers and friends. Not only did it encourage him to keep doing what he was doing (a winter without a snow day is downright cold), but it made him feel even better each time he helped people. Before Pitch's little "uprising", Jack had still done things that he is doing now, but he didn't feel as good doing it. But now...it was like throwing a piece of electric candy into your mouth.

Jack loved it.

He couldn't even feel the cold! And when he blew a nice slow blizzard over a town, he made sure it was warm enough that people would want to go outside, but cold enough to keep the snow well-packed. He hardly even had to think about it much.

He was in a small town in Canada, something that started with an R…

Right when he was beginning to remember, a flash of light caught his eye. It wasn't lingering or sharp enough to make him look away, it was almost like a camera flash, except not white.

Black.

Jack had a feeling that a fearling was in town.

It wouldn't be too much trouble, for without its master, it would be really weak. Jack hated thinking like that, but it was true. He was beginning to feel a bit bad for them, he knew what it was like being alone.

He glided along the power cables, using them like, well, ice. His staff was hooked at the end like a G, and it made coating the cables with frost a bit easier.

He whooped, jumping off of the cables and onto the ground. He was in a suburban town, and it was fairly small. It reminded him of his own home, Burgess, and all the children there.

He held his staff ready, searching for the fearling. He wasn't scared of it, nobody should be, but he needed to do this. If wasn't exactly getting old, but getting sad. Killing fear isn't bad, but it's the fact that you're ending something, that get's Jack.

He suppressed those thoughts.

Really! He was the Guardian of Fun! His thoughts should be fun too, right? But fearlings had that effect on people, they made them dark and sad, or at least they did to him.

"Fearling?" He asked dumbly, turning a corner into an alley. He was greeted by an empty alley, but something was lighting up at the end.

He felt like he had just walked into a neon store, it has happened. He had a bit of a mishap while riding the wind, and it threw him straight into a store called _Neon Market_.

Enough said; the name is pretty self explanatory.

Jack stepped carefully, making sure that whatever was at the end of the alley wouldn't skitter away. He almost froze the message that laid before him.

It was written in neat cursive letters. They shimmered with neon, glowing and fading from one color to the next. Jack hadn't seen anything like it, and he has lived a long time to see many things, but nothing looked like this.

It didn't seem to stay in one place. It slowly moved across the wall, floating in the air as the writing changed colors. Jack was a bit hypnotized by it, but he had other things on his mind.

It read: _The Carrier of After will rise._

_That's unsettling. _Jack though, tracing the words with his fingers.

Who had done this?

As far as Jack was aware, no Guardian could make neon, let alone write so beautifully. Jack needed to learn how to write like that, for the next time he sent a letter, the recipient would be getting quite the treat.

He knew what he had to do.

He mentally marked this place down on his "mental map", and summoned the winds to pick him up. He shouted the location, and the winds obeyed, taking him away.

Jack knew that this wasn't no simple leftover fearling.

Something was brewing.


	3. Chapter 3

Spirit knew she needed to be strong.

It really wasn't easy, for she was invisible, lost, and amnesiac.

She really wasn't able to count the time since her awakening, but she had an idea that it had been about a week. Even in that small amount of time, a lot has happened.

She left a message for him.

He was flying, using the wind, and he always seemed to have a smile on his face. She knew he was some type of spirit, judging how most people ignored him. Spirit didn't know his name, and she wished she did.

She had debated a series of times whether or not she would talk to him. Spirit had many questions, but she didn't know if he was someone who belonged to _him_.

She needed to tell him though.

But walking up to him wasn't going to happen.

So, she left a message.

She didn't know if he would see it, but she gave him a little hit by shoot a colorful light towards him. He thought it was something called a "fearling", which in Spirit thinks is rather unsettling.

What if he is back?

What if the information she gave him wasn't a lie?

Is he really coming back?

No matter what the case, Spirit knows that if he roams the earth again, nobody will survive.

**[Jack]**

North was one of the most interesting people Jack knew, besides Sandman, who was still very interesting even though he never spoke.

He trusted each of the Guardians, yes even Kangaroo. Trust, according to North, was one of the most important things of sticking together.

Jack believed that fully.

As he rode the winds to North's workshop, his thoughts stayed on one thing; who wrote the message.

The letters were awesome and Jack wished he could write like that, but it wasn't the way the letters changed colors or never stayed still that unnerved him, it was the message written with the letters.

_The Carrier of After_? Jack was confused. What that a person? An expression? He knew what after meant, and carrier, but together...what.

Jack decided that he should save his thoughts to went he _actually _got to North's.

He was the last one to arrive, "fashionably late". But he was the one who asked North to gather the Guardians, yet he had quickly hurried out so that he could memorize the message written in the alley.

Bunny, wearing his usual boomerangs and oversized ears and feet, shouted up to him as he glided down to the Guardian Stone, which was shut underneath the floorboards.

"Frostbite's late, usual." Bunny said, his australian accent coating his words. He twiddled one of his boomerangs in his hands.

Toothania, whom every Guardian called Tooth, was commanding her fairies around the world to collect teeth. Jack had no idea how she knew where each tooth was, which incisor it was, and where it was located, to tell her fairies. Jack admired that talent.

She was too busy to notice Jack arriving, and he was too scared to interrupt her.

North clapped his hands together, which sounded almost as loud as an earthquake, and got the Guardians attention.

"So," His voice boomed through the workshop. "I believe we have problem? Jack?"

Jack took this as his cue. "I was in...Canada-"

"Did you know where you bloody were?" Bunny asked, more like teased. "'Canada' is a pretty large area."

"Yeah," Jack glared at Bunnymund. "it started with an...R."

"Jack, continue." North obviously sensed an argument coming on.

Jack tore his glare away from Bunny's, instead looking at North. "I thought I saw a leftover fearling, nothing big, but when I followed it down an alleyway, there was a message at the end."

Tooth, who seemed to have broken away from her fairies, said, "What did it say? Did it look...suspicious?"

Jack nodded. "Yep, for one it made out of neon letters. Is there any spirit or Guardian that can do that?"

They shook their heads, looking at each other for guidance.

"What did the message say?" North asked, crossing his arms as his waited for Jack's answer. His arms were tattooed perfectly with the words _Naughty _and _Nice_, Jack knew which list he was on.

"It was really weird, I didn't understand it." Jack thought for a moment, getting the exact words in his head. "_The Carrier of After will rise._ Sound familiar? Because it's rather unnerving and-"

Tooth's face lost all emotion, like she was remembering something that gave her nightmares at night. "No...is this what I think it is?"

Bunny looked nervous too, and Jack was too worried to tease him about it.

North stroked his beard, and when he spoke, he didn't meet anyone's eyes. "Jack, did you see anyone before this message?"

Jack reluctantly answered, for he was too confused to ask a question. "No."

"What did the letter's look like? Do you think that they are still there?" North asked, staring at each part of the workshop like it was the last time he would see it.

"Colorful, and they didn't seem to stay in one place. They looked like they took a long time to write; all cursive and old-looking. Why?" Jack said.

North looked at Tooth, who still had that look that made Jack uneasy. He wanted to ask what was going on, but Bunny answered for him.

"This isn't Pitch, Jack." Bunny was the only one who didn't avoid Jack's gaze, even despite that they had just had an argument.

"Who is it then?" Jack could've sworn that the room dropped thirty degrees, and this time it wasn't his fault.

Bunny snarled what Jack had trouble believing was a name. "Death."

"What?" Jack gripped his staff tightly. "Death? Is that a person?"

"Yes Jack." Tooth answered, taking Bunny's spot in front of him. "That would explain why the writing said '_The Carrier of After_'. He was named that after he took control of the underworld, for he is the one who reaps the dying souls. Basically, he takes them to Heaven or the Underworld."

Jack noticed her eyes were no longer their friendly purple, they now looked like dying lilacs.

"We should visit where this message was written." North said, breaking the tension that formed when Tooth answered Jack's question. His voice seemed a bit more Russian than usual; was he nervous? "Jack, do you remember your exact location where you found it?"

Jack nodded. "Starts with R…" He gasped. "Riske...Riske Creek! Yes! I remember now!"

"You _were _lost, weren't you frostbite?" Bunny was leaning against the wall, a mischievous smirk that Jack had a feeling Bunny had stolen from him.

"No!" Jack quickly said. "I was perfectly aware of where I was!"

"Were you Jack," Bunnymund asked. "_were you_?"

**{Spirit}**

Spirit twirled her staff in her arms like a botan, tapping an occasional flower or lettering on a window.

Each person she passed ignored her or passed right through her. It still unnerved her to a great extent, but she was getting used to it.

Dawn was creeping in on Riske Creek, but people still rushed around in the shops and community centers. The snow was falling heavily, but it sparkled beautifully as it fell to the ground. She didn't leave any footsteps in her wake, and the snow seemed to be the only thing that didn't change color as she walked through it.

She didn't feel so lost anymore, but lonely. Nobody saw her, nobody spoke to her, nobody noticed her. When she accidentally tripped and colored a whole parking lot of cars into purple, everyone turned, but didn't notice the girl yelling sorry.

It hadn't been long since her awakening, and she was still wearing the same clothes as before. She had experimented with her weird abilities, learning new things about herself every day.

For one, if she focused enough, that electric feeling would always return to prickle at her skin. Whenever that happened, a few lights always shattered and the ground around her feet shifted colors. Her staff even "rainbowed" a bit. But so far, no rainbows of any kind had issued from her hands.

She could run for quite a while at that fast speed, but it left her feeling like she was just electrocuted; shaky, weak, and tired. A trail of colors were left in her wake like streamers, and she wasn't sure if any civilians had seen or noticed them.

She had caught a glimpse of her reflection on the window of a fishing shop in a coastal Canadian town. Her hair was a light color, like brown had mixed with white. Freckles dotted her face around her nose, and her lips were a salmon pink.

She hated to admit it, but her eyes were a bit concerning. Each time she saw herself in her reflection as she traveled, her eyes were a different color. And the last time she checked, yellow was _not_ a normal eye color.

She had made her way to the top of a larger apartment building, standing on one of the turbine vents. She was spinning slightly as the thing turned.

The snow had let up a bit, falling like cold ashes. It was beautiful, especially with the forest behind her.

Spirit sighed, taking a deep breath of the cold air. She hopped off of the vent and stood on the edge of the building. She couldn't see anything, nor hear much, beside the distant chatter of friends and family making their way home.

She drew pictures on the roof with her staff in neon colors. Not only was she vaguely aware of who and where she was, she was beginning to get board.

What could someone with amnesia possibly do? Let alone anyone who has nowhere to go and nothing to do? Drawing pictures with her staff, which had shrunken down to the size of a flute, seemed like the only viable option now.

Someone behind her said, "Hey there."

She jumped so badly she flashed backwards a few feet in a blaze of color and light. She stopped at the end of the roof, holding her now-extended staff out and ready to attack.

The boy before her held his pale hands up. "Woah sweetheart, I'm not gonna hurt you."

His voice sounded a lot like that other guy she's seen before, but his was full of false friendship. Whatever that mean, Spirit wasn't really sure, but really...this guy was certainly _not _okay.

Saying that this guy was pale was an understatement. He looked like chalk, and his shadowy hair and piercing gray eyes made Spirit think of the many ways that she could've died before she was resurrected. His hair seemed to move, like smoky shadows in a bonfire. And his clothes were as dark as a stormy night.

He was wearing a cape.

It wasn't one like a superhero would wear, but one that a knight would've. It was black, but when Spirit looked at it harder, it was made of pure shadow. His shirt was a black t-shirt on that had _are you sure you wanna die? _written in white letters, and his jeans were worn and dark. If it weren't for the weird aura that the teen had, Spirit would've considered him cute.

"Sweetheart," His voice was laced with a heavy accent; Scottish? "aren't you a pretty."

Spirit felt her heart swell, but she told herself that this guy wasn't someone to trust. He was dark (literally), and had just attempted to sneak up on her, who does that?

Her hands gripped her staff for dear life, but she forced herself to stand tall and strong, when really she felt like a flat rubber tire. She's learned that hard way that if someone sees you, they aren't to be trusted. But then again, she had gotten that winter-boy's attention…

She shoved the thought out of her head, just when the dark teen spoke again.

"Should I be calling you Jewel? You're eyes certainly agree…" His voice was laced with taunt, and he had succeeded in getting on Spirit's nerves.

"Who are you?" Her voice came out more hostile than she meant it to be, but it loosened the tension forming in her chest.

The guy seemed satisfied. "Shirt says it all."

The name flew into her mind at such forced it knocked her a few feet backwards.

"Death." she said, her voice sounding too much like a gasp.

He smirked, revealing teeth too perfect for a guy as bad as he. "You're a quick one, Jewel."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd be so...young." The words flew out of Spirits mouth on their own accord, and it made her cheeks flush fearfully.

"I have the appearance of a 17-year-old male, much like yourself but...female." Death started pacing, and if Spirit didn't know better, his shadowed cape billowed behind him like, well, death. "I didn't think the new spirit would be so beautiful."

"Flirtation won't be getting you anywhere." Spirit snapped, sounding more brave than she felt.

"Is it?" Death's mouth turned upwards in a taunting smirk. "How did you know about my rising?"

The answer came out, but Spirit didn't want it to. "The Moon told me."

Death didn't seem to like that.

He looked up at the sky, his pale frame looking even paler. He was obviously hiding his anger, and Spirit felt her instincts provoking her to run, but the aura surround Death held her in place. Deep down, Spirit knew too well why she couldn't move.

Death was controlling her.

And he had a firm hold on her.

But he was losing control in _himself._


	4. Chapter 4

**[Jack]**

The air was so heavy that Jack could've sworn it was pushing his (bare) feet into the concrete. Even the wind was having trouble, which _never _happens.

The guardians were as alert as ever, but they too seemed more jumpy than usual. Jack, who was probably the most 'chill' of the guardians, didn't hesitate to get stern.

"Where is this message, Jack?" North asked, his Russian accent growing heavier with each word; he was just as nervous as the rest of them.

Jack floated over to the alleyway, leaning around the corner to see if it was still there. The faint glow of the neon letters shown through the alley, growing stronger as it reached the end.

"Here!" He announced, and he heard the footsteps (minus Sandy, who floated just like Jack) of the group rushing to see the message. Jack chuckled to himself for being in charge and not having North assisting him. His chest swelled with pride, but then again, he wasn't really the leader when it came to stuff like this.

Tooth muttered something like 'pretty', Bunnymund whistled, and Sandy said...nothing. Jack couldn't' help wondering what Sandy's voice would sound like _if _he spoke. It was a rather strange thought, but all of Jack's thoughts were a bit between 'insane' and 'let me think a bit more to correct myself'.

There it was, the message that had appeared as soon as Jack entered the town of Riske Creek. The unsettling words about the 'Carrier of After' still brought a chill to Jack's spine, as if he could get any colder.

North made a 'humf' sound. "This is rather...unsettling."

Jack chuckled, mostly to try and loosen the tightness forming in his chest. "Yeah."

"The Carrier of After?" Bunny wondered aloud, and what surprised Jack was the fact that he added a sentence _after _his wondering. "I think that's a spirit."

"What do you mean 'spirit'?" Jack asked. He was having a hard time pulling his eyes off the colors in the letters and the careful way that they were written. He wanted to find out who had written this and have them write a letter for him...wouldn't that be nice.

"Well, spirits have a lot of different names Frostbite." Bunny answered. "Take you for example _Old Man Winter_."

Jack didn't answer, but he understood Bunny's point. He had a feeling Bunny was expecting an insult back at him, but all he got was Tooth asking another question.

"So...is there a spirit who goes by this name?" She asked, her voice growing higher and higher as she finished the sentence; she was just as worried as she looked.

Nobody answered.

Jack traced the letters with his fingers, wishing his handwriting looked like this. He tried to rub the lettering off, and was only left with a bit of neon on his index finger. It still shifted colors on his skin, like fragments of dust rubbed off an old table.

He was vaguely aware of his name being spoken.

"Jack?" Tooth asked, placing a hand on his arm with concern. "What's wrong?"

He hadn't realized it until now, and the colors off the letters were scrambling up his mind. Jack had been thinking about it for a while, but he never had the chance to express his theory.

He wiped the color-dust-stuff on his pants. "I have an idea."

"Oh, you wanker," Bunny groaned. "you're ideas are something…"

"You better be glad I have one, Kangaroo."

* * *

><p><strong>{Spirit}<strong>

She had a feeling that Death would be the end of her.

Spirit was not ready to die, well, die _again_. She still had no idea who she was or how she got here, but she was well aware that this wasn't her first time living.

She shoved those thoughts out of her head; she had other things to think about right now, such as the psychopath that was cursing the moon.

"Why tell her!" He screamed, his shadowy cape flicking in the bright moonlight. "She's not worthy to know the secret! You trusted me!"

Spirit couldn't hear whatever the moon was saying to Death, but whatever it was, it wasn't appealing him.

"Gah!" He snarled, and the ground around his feet erupted into a shadow like black marker flooding onto paper. She had no idea what this looked like to the people who were underneath the roof they were standing up, but she prayed that they weren't aware of the horrors happening above them.

Then Death did something that Spirit was never prepared for.

He screamed.

It wasn't a scream that comes out of your mouth when you go through serious pain, or the kind that happens when you get scared. His was a pure, guttural, painful, _scream_, and it radiated all the anger and death that built up the guy's presence.

And it made Spirit fall to her knees.

The sound pierced her head like a bullet, mixing her brains and inserting a sharp ringing noise. The only thing that she could concentrate on was the ringing, and the pain that each tone inflicted. It ripped away at her blood, turning her colorful power into black darkness. She gripped onto it, and she was pretty sure that was what saved her life that day.

She threw herself off of the roof, preparing herself for the impact of her feet hitting the concrete. There was a moment of bliss, and the air around her calming her dreamlike, and then she fell, the impact below her waiting.

It never came.

Instead, the wind decided it was a great time to scoop her up into it's arms.

It flew her onto the ground softly, and it took Spirit a moment to realize that the wind wasn't an 'it' but a 'who'.

It was winter-boy, white hair and all.

He was even cuter closer up.


End file.
